


The Charity Case

by KaylaShay, kaylashay81 (KaylaShay)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Charity Auctions, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaylaShay/pseuds/KaylaShay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaylaShay/pseuds/kaylashay81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only supposed to last a week, but a fantasy should last a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elizabeth Burke - Event Planner

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I'm not USA or whoever else, so I don't claim to own them.  
>  **Genre** : Threesome/Moresome  
>  **Pairings** : Peter/Elizabeth/Neal  
>  **Warnings** : Sexual Content; Slavery  
>  **Word Count** : Part 01 2,539 of 7,127  
>  **Written For** : sinfulslasher's [January 2013](http://kaylashay.livejournal.com/171055.html?thread=2529327#t2529327) prompt  
>  **Beta** : azraelz_angel

Technically, Elizabeth was working the event. However, June had extended an invitation for her to bid on the items being offered if she saw something that caught her fancy. Seeing the first half of the auction had consisted of scantily clad slave girls, she wasn't holding out much hope. Instead, she planned to donate a portion of her pay for the event back to the charity in question.

She positioned herself toward the back of the room and watched with mild humor as overweight businessman held bidding wars for the skimpy women. She felt a bit sorry for the girls, but at least the terms of the charity auction only transferred them to the winning bidder for a week. When the week was up, they would return to the slave facility that loaned them to the auction.

The auctioneer called for an intermission as the last girl was trotted off stage. Elizabeth let her gaze focus on her staff to ensure that drinks were being replenished and desserts were being delivered. Everything seemed to be running smoothly and she took pride in a well organized event.

Fifteen minutes later, the auctioneer gained everyone's attention as the male slaves were led past the table to take the stage. Elizabeth's interest perked up.

Since her marriage to FBI Peter Burke, she had left the world of pleasure slaves behind. Her family frowned upon her, but her and Peter had an understanding. Following their marriage, they agreed that a slave was out of the question for at least the first five years of their marriage. They had both witnessed families torn apart due to jealousy and they did not want that to happen to them.

Now, it was ten years later and the discussion had never been revisited. They were both very career driven and satisfied with each other. But now Elizabeth was thinking about it. She didn't have anything yet for their anniversary the following week and as she cast her eye over the lineup on stage, there were several potentials.

One thing Elizabeth knew for certain was that if a slave ever entered the picture, it would be a male. She had experimented in her teens with some of the female slaves her parents kept and it hadn't interested her. She also knew that Peter had been enamored with a male slave not long before they had met. However, he hadn't been able to afford the steep price the slave's owner had set when asked.

Elizabeth moved along the side wall until she was closer to the stage to get a good look. She couldn't see the ones at the far end very well, but it didn't matter. Her eyes landed on the one closest to her and she knew he was the one.

His hair was a dark brown and a bit unruly. Her mind immediately pictured all the ways her and Peter could grab that hair as he was pleasuring them. His body was well toned. There didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on him. Then, as if sensing her appraisal, he tilted his head enough that she saw his eyes, a blue as shocking as her own. Peter would love him.

Taking note of his number, Elizabeth looked around for June. Spotting the older woman, she headed over to hopefully negotiate a deal.

"Elizabeth! Everything is going just wonderful," June said in greeting.

"I'm so glad," Elizabeth responded. "I wanted to let you know that I was planning to donate half of the fee back to the organization. It's the least I could do."

"But you've more than earned it," June was saying. "I can't let you walk away with less than you deserve. I'm afraid all the females are gone, but would one of the males interest you? Half of your fee would more than cover the bid."

"Now that you mention it," Elizabeth said with a smile, "number 20 did catch my eye."

June nodded in agreement. "He is a beauty. Let me go speak with the auctioneer's assistant and get him secured for you."

"June," Elizabeth added before the woman walked off, "I know the deal is only for a week, but is there an option to buy at the end if we are interested? If things work out, he may make the perfect ten year anniversary present for my husband."

June smile knowingly. "I'm sure something can be arranged and if the facility gives you any issues or tries to the inflate the price, I'll help you out."

"Thank you, June," Elizabeth said with a smile. She turned back to the stage and watched number 20 subtly shift his weight as if he was debating on running. Once he was theirs, there would be no way for him to run anywhere.

Several hours later, a young man in a uniform approached her in the nearly empty ballroom.

"Mrs. Burke?" he questioned. When she nodded, he continued, "Mrs. Ellington said you would be taking one week ownership of slave number 20. We still have him in the holding area, but it's past time for us to leave and I need you to finalize the paperwork."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said as she passed the final stack of plates off to one of her employees. "I lost track of time. What do I need to do?"

He laid the paperwork out of the table and pointed out the signature requirements. He also highlighted the list of rules that had to be met regarding the condition of the slave upon return to the facility.

"What if we decide to purchase him at the end of the week?" she questioned as she signed.

"That happens more often than you think at these events," he said with a smirk. "Just bring the slave back at the appointed time and you'll be able to complete the full purchase then. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your new slave."

When they arrived at the holding area, Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath at seeing the slave up close. He was exquisite. Once she was able to focus, she took in his state of attire and began to frown.

"Do you have any additional clothing or shoes I can use on him? I was planning to take the subway and then a walk to get home."

"No ma'am," the handler said apologetically. "Most of the patrons of these events have-"

"Limos that take them straight to their doorstep. I guess we can manage with a taxi," she sighed, thinking of the attention the tight white material stripped over the slave's groin would garner in the subway.

"Here's a leash, the paperwork and the keys to the collar if you need them. The collar does come with a state of the art tracking device, so if the slave should become lost, just call the number on the paperwork and they will initiate a search."

"Thank you for all your help."

Over the next half-hour, the slave trailed along behind her as she ensured the cleanup was finalized and that all items had been handled. Then she clipped the leash to the slave and headed for the door. When she stepped outside, she hissed at the cold breeze and then immediately took her shoulder wrap off and handed it to the slave.

"I think you need this more than me," she said eying his bare chest. When he started to protest, she just gave him a stern look and he accepted the small piece of material that wouldn't do much to shield him. Luckily, she caught a cab pretty quick and they got inside.

When the slave started to kneel on the floor, she pulled him up to the seat next her. Then the cabbie coughed and nodded his head to the sign on the partition that stated that slaves were not allowed to sit on the seats.

Elizabeth snorted and solved the problem by pulling the slave awkwardly into her lap and wrapping her arms around him. She arched her eyebrows at the cabbie who was watching in the mirror, daring him to comment. When he drove off, she considered it her victory.

Resting her chin on the shoulder in front of her, she whispered conspiratorially, "I don't always like following the rules, but having an FBI agent for a husband doesn't always give me a chance to play."

Then, realizing she had missed reading the slave's name on the paperwork she asked, "What's your name?"

"Neal, Mistress," came the soft voice.

"Neal," she said, testing on her lips. "I'm Elizabeth. And I know you were probably expecting some high-class person that would pamper you with expensive things for the week, but I really liked you and I think my husband will like you too. It's our anniversary."

Neal didn't comment, but Elizabeth didn't expect it. Slaves, especially those in a new environment, were taught to remain silent unless asked a direct question or given permission to speak freely. Almost an hour of belonging to her wasn't enough to give him the feeling of safety that would only come with years of ownership. She was looking forward to it.

When the cab pulled up to her house, she tossed him the money and hurried Neal, not wanting him exposed to the cold any more. She dropped the leash once she was inside and continued on with her usual routine. She knew Peter was going to be home late, so she kicked her heels off and headed toward the back door to let Satch in from his outdoor area. The dog ran past her and she looked up sharply when he barked. She saw Neal kneeling on Satchmo's dog bed they kept near the door. Neal and Satch where in a faceoff and Elizabeth silently berated herself for not thinking of Neal first.

She walked over and placed one hand on Satch's head and one on Neal's. "Neal, this is Satchmo. Satchmo, Neal. I don't think Satch likes sharing his bed."

Then she tilted Neal's face up so those blue eyes were staring at her. "I'm sorry I didn't give you direction when we came in. My slave etiquette is a little rusty. Unless we've given you an order to kneel, you don't have to. You are welcome to sit on the furniture or just stand. Although, if you like kneeling, that's okay too," she added as an afterthought.

She recalled the personal slave her father had owned that was practically a second father to her. He had confided in her that he loved kneeling at his Master's feet.

"Thank you, Mistress," Neal said and he stood up.

"While we're on the subject," Elizabeth continued, "consider bathroom use and eating along the same lines. Neither of us like to micromanage to that level. Well, Peter might if you were one of his probationary agents."

"May I be excused to the bathroom, Mistress?" Neal questioned tentatively and Elizabeth smiled. It sounded like Neal probably had a thing about following rules too if he was already speaking without permission.

"Sure," she said. "I'll show you the master bath upstairs. Then I can figure out how to get you ready for Peter. You are a surprise gift after all."

Neal trailed her up the stairs and then he disappeared into the bathroom. She wasn't too worried about him since he left the door open. While he was occupied, she studied the bedroom as if it would supply her with the solution for how to present Neal to Peter. She was so deep into her thoughts that she didn't hear Neal reenter the bedroom until he spoke beside her.

"If I may make a suggestion, Mistress," and at her startled nod, he continued. "Place the nicest sheets you have on the bed, dim the lights and set up some candles, preferably electric if you have them so you don't have to blow them out later. Arrange me on the bed. Naked. Would your husband prefer the front or the back view the best?"

Elizabeth giggled as she considered the question. "Front for now I think. He likes the eyes first. Are you okay with restraints? Peter has a thing with cuffs. I think law enforcement corrupted him."

Neal nodded and Elizabeth set to work. Neal, without direction, started stripping the bed. Elizabeth went to the linen closet and got the sheets someone had given them as a Christmas gift the year before and they had never used. They were light blue silk that she knew would match not only Neal's eyes but her own. Her phone dinged with a text just as they got the new sheets positioned. Peter was on his way home. 

"We have about thirty minutes," she told Neal. "Let's get you ready."

He stretched out on the bed and Elizabeth took the padded leather cuffs that Peter loved to use on her. She closed them around Neal's wrists and then attached them to the headboard.

"You can unclasp them like this if you need to," she said, showing Neal the trick. "Now, I have about ten minutes to play with you before I need to get myself ready to meet him at the door."

Elizabeth straddled Neal's hips and leaned down to kiss him for the first time. He opened his mouth to her and she let their tongues duel. Her hands wandered along his body as the kiss deepened. One trailed up his muscled arm, while the other found a nipple and began playing with it.

The nipple did the trick when she heard a groan from him. She left his mouth and trailed her kisses down his throat and sucked the same nipple into her mouth. She felt him buck his hips slightly toward her.

"Can't get too far ahead of ourselves," she said breathlessly as she looked up at him. His eyes were half closed and she was pretty sure the look of pleasure on his face wasn't faked like many slaves had to do.

She moved her body further down the bed and took in the sight of growing bulge in the tight white fabric. "Let's hope I can pull those off," she murmured and then hooked her fingers under the edges and tugged.

When Neal's cock was released from the confines, it sprung upward and then tilted against his flat belly. She pulled the fabric the rest of the way off and tossed them into the bathroom.

"You keep that look," she said standing up. "Now for mine. I want you to watch, Neal," she added as she unzipped the dress.

Neal's eyes were fixed on her body as she wiggled out of the dress. Then she put on a slow show as slipped her bra and panties off. Judging by the smear of pre-come forming along Neal's stomach, Elizabeth figured he was enjoying the show.

Then she grabbed one of her indulgences from a high-end lingerie store and did a pirouette, for Neal. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful, Mistress," Neal said just as she heard the door downstairs and Satch's welcoming bark.

"Peter's home. It's show time," Elizabeth said as she gave Neal a wink and headed down the stairs to greet him.


	2. Peter Burke - FBI Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only supposed to last a week, but a fantasy should last a lifetime.

Peter gave Satch his pat on the head and then stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of his wife descending the stairs.

"Hey, Hon," he said, desire already building up. "I'm suddenly feeling a little overdressed."

"I'll take care of that for you," she said as she struck a pose. "How about you come upstairs with me?"

"What's the occasion? I actually remember that our anniversary is in two days, so I didn't miss it this year."

"I decided to celebrate a little early," El finished just as he reached the steps. Peter pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. He slid his hand down and pressed against the thin material covering her and pulled it back a bit damp.

"We could try out the table," he said huskily, not wanting to trek upstairs. "Make sure it's still sturdy."

"And last time you said it was the last time when neither of us could move the next day. The bed is more inviting, trust me."

Peter knew that El was up to something. But from the outfit she was wearing, he figured he was going to enjoy whatever she had planned. Maybe she would let him play with the cuffs they hadn't used in quite a while. With a spring in his step and a hardening erection, Peter followed his wife up the stairs.

"I hope you like the surprise," El whispered to him just before she pulled him by the tie into the bedroom. He didn't have a chance to question what she meant because he saw it waiting for them in their bed.

"El?" he managed to get out as he took in the sight before him.

The man's hands were raised to the headboard and Peter could see the cuffs he had used countless times on his wife wrapped around the man's wrists. Blue eyes were watching him as he took in the dark hair and facial features. Then Peter trailed down the muscular chest and stopped at the hard and dripping cock. Then his mind clicked to El's wetness he felt earlier and realized she must have prepped the man just before he came in the door. Just the thought sent a jolt through his body. He wasn't sure if it was jealousy or something else entirely.

"El?" he questioned again.

"Happy anniversary, Hon," she said in his ear. "His name is Neal and I got him at the auction tonight."

A slave. Peter felt the word ricochet around in his mind. Apparently this ridiculously handsome man in their bed was their slave. Their 'no slave' agreement had ended five years ago, but they had never discussed it since their marriage. He just assumed they would be one of those couples that could do without.

While El had grown up in a world filled with pleasure slaves, Peter had not. His first exposure to slaves had been in college and then gradually increased after he joined the FBI. There had an entire course at academy dedicated to slave handling and interactions during cases.

However, it was his first and last time sleeping with a slave that made the reality of a slave's life hit home with him. He'd been sent undercover with a major corporation and as part of the cover the CEO they were working with gave him a personal slave for the duration. And Peter had fallen hard.

For the two weeks he was undercover, Peter had spent his downtime with Tony. It had taken a few days for the slave to open up, but soon they were talking like old friends. Tony was smart too. He was able to get information Peter couldn't and pinged ideas regarding the information back and forth as if he was seasoned investigator. It was on the last night that Peter had kissed him and then fallen in bed with the slave.

The next day, the bust occurred and Peter was back with the FBI, sans Tony. He had contacted the CEO, but the man had an asking price so far out of Peter's range that there was nothing he could do. He lost a friend and he figured Tony was back to being a pet and pretending he didn't have a brain. Now, he was faced with the ownership of another human being and if the light that Peter could see flickering within the blue eyes were anything to go on, this slave, Neal, would be interesting.

"Neal, huh?" he said, pulling El into a kiss. "How about we give Neal a show?"

El smiled at him and then pulled on his tie, tugging him until they stood at foot of the bed.

"You want a show, Neal?" Peter asked Neal, trying to get a measure of the man. He wouldn't enjoy this if Neal didn't enjoy it.

"If it pleases you, Master," came the demure response and Peter tried to keep from rolling his eyes. It always took time before a slave was comfortable to cut the training crap.

"I'd rather have a yes or no, Neal," he said as he reached down and wrapped a hand around Neal's ankle. "Besides getting off, which we'll let you do later, would you like to see a show?"

"Yes, Master?" It came out more like a question, but Peter would accept it for now.

"How about you help me undress, Hon," Peter said huskily. He squeezed Neal's ankle and then moved his hand to El and pulled her close. "Slowly."

El started with his tie and worked her way down. Peter felt like a stripper's pole the way she moved around him. For his part, Neal kept still on the bed, but Peter could hear his breathing as it increased and see the minute thrusts he was giving with his hips as his cock tried to find relief.

Once he was naked, El turned him around and then pressed him onto the bed. She pressed a hand to his chest and Peter found himself lying on the bed with his head between Neal's legs and his feet on the floor. El straddled him for a moment and kissed him on the mouth. Then she reached over his head and Peter could hear the suction of what he assumed was El sucking Neal into her mouth. Moments later, she returned to his mouth and he could tell the difference in the taste of her kiss.

She didn't linger long before she slid to the floor and then took him into her mouth in a practiced move. However, the knowledge that she had just had that mouth wrapped around Neal's dick made for a more thrilling ride. Needing something to hold on to, Peter reached his hands up and grasped Neal's hips firmly. He pulled him down until he felt Neal's balls nestled in his hair. When he moved his head to rasp his hair across Neal's sensitive skin, he heard the other man gasp and saw El glance up to give him a smile.

"I think you're ready," El finally announced as his dick popped from her mouth. She pulled him up and kissed him deeply, letting him taste himself on her.

"I want to watch you fuck him," she whispered in his ear when they separated. "As hard as you fuck me when those cuffs are on."

Peter could only nod his assent and then turned his focus to Neal. He turned around and took his time studying Neal's body. He was pleased to note that the slave's eyes were tracking his the entire time. Once he had a visual map of Neal, Peter stretched his body full length of the other man's and stared Neal straight in the eyes.

"Don't come while I'm fucking you," Peter said hotly. "I want to watch you fuck my wife after I'm done."

Then he captured Neal's mouth with his own. Peter was more than satisfied when Neal gave as good as he got. He figured it wouldn't take much coaxing to make Neal more a part of him and El than as something they would keep around to spice up their sex life. Once he was done, Peter kneeled back and picked up Neal's legs to wrap them around his waist. Then he slowly thrust his cock into Neal's more than welcoming body.

Peter heard Neal groan and felt the tight heat clinch around him. He pulled out slowly and then thrust back in, setting a leisurely pace. He smiled when he saw El's hands wrap around Neal's cock, giving it slow meaningful strokes in time with his thrusts.

"Please," slipped out of Neal's mouth and Peter jerked his hips hard.

"Please what, Neal?" he questioned.

"Faster, Master. Please?"

El gave a slight laugh. "You heard the man, Hon," she said. Then she turned to Neal, "Just remember I want this when he's done," she said with a squeeze.

Neal nodded and Peter picked up the pace. It didn't take long for the only sounds to be heard in the room were the slapping of his balls against Neal's skin and grunts and groans they were both making. Then Peter came inside Neal.

Minutes later, he let himself slip from Neal's body and let El guide him to a laying position beside Neal. He reached over and gave Neal a light kiss and then turned his head to nuzzle at Neal's neck.

"My turn," El was saying and he felt the muscles in Neal's neck tense. Looking up, he saw El riding Neal, her breasts bouncing as she moved up and down on his cock.

"Come whenever you want to," he whispered to Neal and then slid down to push his fingers against El's clit as she continued to move. When El cried out, so did Neal and they all fell together in a pile with Neal on the bottom.

El was the first to actually move. She went to the bathroom and came back with a wet cloth that she move over the two men. Then she removed the cuffs from Neal's hands and rubbed at them to make sure he was okay.

Peter was about to open his mouth to ask the questions regarding Neal that had been forestalled by the sex when El placed a finger to his lips.

"Talking tomorrow. Let's sleep now."

Peter nodded and then figured he needed to take one step of precaution for the first night with an unknown slave in their bed. He reluctantly climbed out of the bed and fumbled around for his department issued handcuffs. He put one of the bracelets around his own wrist and then wrapped the other around Neal's.

"Just for tonight," he said to both El and Neal. "If you need anything, wake me up," he added to Neal. Then they both curled around Neal and everyone fell asleep.

Peter wasn't sure what woke him, but the lighting in the room told him it was still night out. He turned his head and realized there was only one person in the bed with him and that was El. Neal was gone.

The cuff that had been around Neal was now around El's wrist and Peter was impressed the slave had not only been able to slip the cuff and the bed but had been able to get the cuff around El's wrist without waking either of them.

"The headboard would have made more sense to keep me from coming after him," he muttered. Then he reached over to wake up El.

"Hon," he said with a nudge to her arm. "Neal's gone."

She blinked sleepily at him and held up their cuffed hands.

"If he got of the house, they have a tracker on him," she said as they both maneuvered out of the bed.

Peter found his key and undid their hands. Then he started a search of the house. It didn't take long.

"Found him," he said softly as El joined him at the bottom of the stairs. Neal was curled up in Satchmo's dog bed beside the door.

"Any ideas?" he asked El hopelessly.

"He went there when I first brought him in the house and forgot to give him orders. I told him that wasn't for him."

Peter went over to the sleeping man and sat down on the floor in front of him.

"Neal," he said, resting his hand on Neal's bare shoulder. When he felt how cold the slave's skin was, he turned back to El and asked her to get a blanket.

Neal was just blinking his eyes open when El walked over with the afghan from the couch. Neal immediately moved from the dog bed to the floor and got in an abject position that Peter had only seen slaves expecting punishment take.

"Neal," he said again, pulling the man up until he was sitting in front of him. El wrapped the afghan around his shoulders and they could both see his shaking.

"You're not in trouble. We just came to see why you left the bed. El said she told you this was Satchmo's bed, not yours."

"I'm not supposed to sleep in the bed, Master," Neal said softly. "I woke in the bed and I'm not supposed to be in the bed after I'm used."

"Maybe that was the rules where you were before, but not here. If I hadn't wanted you in the bed, I wouldn't have cuffed you to me."

"You panicked when you woke up, didn't you?" El questioned as she joined them on the floor. Neal nodded.

"It's okay. We didn't go over all the rules. I've got two for you to remember before we all go back to the warm bed upstairs. Number one is that you will sleep in the bed unless you don't want to sleep in the bed. In that case, we'll put you in the bed in the guest room. But it gets kind of lonely in there. Number two is that when you feel like panicking and acting on impulse talk to us first. Whatever you're thinking the worst is not likely to happen with us. Anything else, Peter?" El asked.

"Nope. We'll figure the rest out in the morning."

Peter stood with El and they both pulled Neal to his feet and led him back upstairs to bed. Peter's mind was filled with everything they would need to discuss in the morning, including how Neal was able to slip those cuffs. He figured the next few days would keep him on his toes.


	3. Neal Caffrey - Slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only supposed to last a week, but a fantasy should last a lifetime.

This had been the fastest week in Neal's life. At least that he could recall. From the time he was sold as a child, time seemed to slow. Every day of training, every sting from a punishment... it all moved like a snail in his mind. Then came the parade of owners.

His first sale was the day he turned sixteen and was therefore legal for purchase. A trainer had taken him from his cage and he was given a full cleansing treatment. At the end, a plug had been placed in his ass and he could feel the trailing of a tail against the backs of his legs. What followed next was a year as a pet to a woman who paraded him around her circle of friends and didn't pay attention to when his knees ached or he needed food and water.

Once she tired him, there was an endless line of owners and trips to the nearest slave facility. Some of the owners were cruel and others didn't even pay him attention. To all of them, he was just an accessory, something to be worn for show and tossed aside when it wasn't needed.

Now, sixteen years later, he belonged to two people who he could only dream about for all those years. The catch was, he didn't really belong to them. He was on loan for the week and now it was over. They were in the car on the way to the slave center to turn him back in and the process would start all over again. The Burkes would just become a fantasy he could indulge in until the ultimate time came that he was too old and used for resale. He let his mind drift as he forced himself to commit the memories of their ownership to his memory.

The first night when they returned him to their bed with the orders that he was welcome there unless he decided he didn't want to be, Neal had been flummoxed. He had belonged to owners in the past that would cuddle him during that after-sex glow, but they would eventually send him away to whatever accommodations had been arranged for him. The Burkes not only cuddled, but they wanted him to stay.

It had been so easy when they had fallen asleep to slip out of the cuff. When he was ten, he had met an older slave who had been months away from his first sale. Mozzie, as he liked to be called when the trainers weren't around, had shown him many things that Neal would never have thought of on his own. The most important had been how to escape a majority of restraints. Mozzie had said that slaves couldn't trust their owners to know what was best for the slave, especially when it came to proper body circulation.

Other tips from Mozzie had saved Neal many pains over the years from neglectful owners. But the way the Master had looked at Neal as if he were a puzzle he wanted to solve when he asked Neal the next morning about the cuff trick made Neal think twice about using some of his other tricks around the Master. He seemed to be a man that noticed everything.

Of course, the Master wasn't alone in his observations. The second day, the Mistress had asked Neal what he liked to do for fun. When Neal didn't answer right away, he had expected a punishment. Instead, the Mistress moved to the floor next to him and gave him a kiss on the lips. Then she asked him if he had ever done anything for fun.

Unable to lie to her, Neal admitted to drawing on scraps of paper from the trash in various places he'd been over the years. He especially liked to recreate the great paintings that hung in the homes of his owners. However, stubs of broken pencils and almost empty ink pens didn't match the vivid paintings and drawings he was only able to see from afar.

The Mistress had snapped her fingers and shouted to her husband that she needed to run an errand and would be back soon. Neal had been left slightly dazed from her hasty departure and then distracted when the Master had pulled him on to the couch and fondled him as he watched the game.

The Mistress returned ladened with bags that she took to the guest room and then she came and grabbed Neal's hand and told him she had something to show him. When they entered the guest room, Neal found it filled with more art supplies than he could ever imagine. There was an array of trays filled with pencils, black sticks, colored sticks and brushes of various sizes. There were pads of paper ranging from small to large. In one corner near the window was an easel with some stacked, blank white canvases next to it.

When he heard the Master's slight chuckle behind him, Neal immediately dropped to the floor and placed his head down. The Mistress had just spent a large amount of money on wasteful things for a slave they didn't even officially own. He knew that the fighting would start and then he would be the handy punching bag in between them.

Neal couldn't help the flinch that he gave when a hand grasped his shoulder. Then he was being pulled up and wrapped in two sets of arms. When the Mistress asked him what was wrong, Neal just burrowed his head in the Master's strong neck.

"You're going to fight and then punish me, Mistress," he managed to choke out. Keeping silent was one of the negatives that had followed his slave file since the beginning. He was always questioning things and many times he spoke out in ways he knew he shouldn't.

"We aren't fighting and we aren't punishing you," the Master said. "It's the opposite. I think El wants to spoil you."

Once Neal had calmed down enough, he listened as the Mistress told him about all the things she had purchased. She also told him that the store held classes for slaves as well as free people. Just the thought of learning how to properly use all the items in front of him was more than he could imagine. But he squashed the hope building inside of him when he remembered he only had a week and then it would all be gone.

After that, he got to spend a few hours each day alone in the room with art supplies. The Mistress had told him that he didn't need to share his work with them until he was ready. She'd even made the Master promise to not peek.

At first, Neal stuck to what he knew, pencils and paper. Then he started to branch out and try the various pieces of charcoal and conté crayons. The Mistress had even allowed him to watch videos from the internet that showed techniques in how to use them. He saved the paint for his last few days.

Neal found that when he had blank white canvas in front of him and palette of colors in his hand, his mind came to life. He remembered all the fancy paintings he had stared at over the years and longed to paint them to the exact detail. However, when his brush touched the canvas it was the great masters that it spread.

He found himself painting his Master and Mistress as they looked when they curled around each other on the couch. Then Neal added Satchmo chewing on a bone in his bed. But something was still missing from the scene. On a whim, he added himself sitting on the floor in front of the couch with the Master's hand on his shoulder and the Mistress' hand carded through his hair.

When he finished his last night with Burkes, the painting brought tears to his eyes. The painting depicted everything he wanted but would never have. He left it sitting on the easel and shut the door to the guest room behind him.

Neal figured he could harbor a fantasy that after he was returned to the facility, the Burkes would find the painting when they went to throw away his useless things. Maybe it would make them consider buying him for real. But he knew it was just a fantasy.

The Master's strong voice announcing they had arrived at the facility brought Neal back to reality and out of the fantasy of the painting. He followed on the leash through the doors with his head down not wanting to see any sign of the Burkes' eagerness to turn him back in. He'd seen enough of their happiness since they woke that told him all needed to know. They didn't want to keep him and they were happy to bring him back to facility. 

When their name was called, a handler took Neal's leash and led him back into facility. Apparently that was it and he wouldn't even get to say goodbye. The handler took him to one of the medical check rooms and a nurse started checking him over for any signs of damage.

"Perfect condition," she muttered to herself. "Guess the new owners will be pleased about that."

Neal inhaled sharply at her words and then looked back down as the nurse eyed him and then snorted.

"Yeah, slave. I'm doing your return check and your out-processing check all in one. Guess they sold you while you were on loan. Lucky you."

Neal didn't feel lucky at all. He wanted to be back with Burkes. He wanted to have time in his room with his art supplies. He wanted to hear Satchmo growl anytime he got close to the dog bed. He wanted to be held forever in his Master and Mistress' arms. He wanted things no slave had the right to want.

Then the handler returned and collected Neal and his paperwork and led him to one of the slave collection rooms near the front. Neal assumed his kneeling position with his back to the door and waited to see what form his new owner would take. At least it had been good sign when he wasn't prepared in any manner. There had been no pet attachments, no specific clothing requirements, no clamps or restraints. Just him and the clothing that Burkes had brought him in with.

Neal heard the door open behind him and stiffened. He repeated over and over to himself that he could do this. He'd been sold before and he could handle it again. He had to drive the Burkes from his mind and focus on the wants and needs of his new owner.

"Oh, hon," he heard the familiar pitch of his Mistress' voice and tried not to choke. "Neal? Did they hurt you during the physical? We told them we didn't need it, but they said it was legal requirement they had to follow."

"Neal?" the Master's voice was right by his ear and he felt the reassuring pressure of the hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? I have my badge with me. The check may have been required, but nothing else was. And since you're legally ours, we have a right to seek damages."

"Yours?" Neal's voice sounded raw to his own ears. "Really yours?"

"Yeah," the Mistress said. "We were just coming down here to finalize the paperwork. Why would you-" When her voice cut off, Neal felt himself being pulled into their arms.

"You thought we were bringing back here to leave you," the Master stated. Then he gave Neal a deep kiss. "We never planned to leave you here, Neal. El got you at the auction with the full intention of purchasing you."

Neal started shaking in their arms. "I'm not worth it, Master. Did you read my slave file? It says I talk too much and don't always do what I'm told."

"We read it and we like you the way you are. Now let's get out of here. Evidently we need to show you what we've been trying to show you all week. We want you in our lives."

Neal felt like he was walking on clouds as his owners took him to the car and then home. When they got inside, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Satchmo, giving the dog a big hug and getting a slobbery kiss in return.

Then they were heading up the stairs toward the bedroom, but Neal grabbed one of each of their hands and veered them toward the guest room.

"I want to show you something," he said softly as he turned the painting around to show them. "I know it's not a masterpiece, but…" he trailed off as he heard his Mistress' gasp.

"Neal! It's beautiful!"

"I- Slaves aren't supposed to want, but I want this."

"You've got it," his Master said and Neal's fantasy became reality.


End file.
